


A Stitch in the fabric of space and time

by opposablethumbs



Series: The fabric of time and space [4]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Doctor Strange - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Movie Night, But honestly she has a point, Clint in the vents, I can't do either!!, Is this even crack any more?, M/M, MAGIC!!, Natasha and Wanda are pals, Truth Spells, Wanda is kinda pouty, avengers ensemble - Freeform, science!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opposablethumbs/pseuds/opposablethumbs
Summary: Movie Night with your boyfriend's ex. What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The last Cloak fic? Say it ain't so! (It's mostly so.) 
> 
> Beta'd by the one and only [nursedarry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/pseuds/NurseDarry), by whose glow we are all illuminated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You know,” Tony said, arching his back so he pressed against Stephen more firmly, “we could just skip the movie and go straight to the bedroom.”_

Stephen and I arrived in the foyer of Stark Tower in a flash of light and a crackle of energy. Tony had been good enough to lift his injunction about no cloaks in his building, but he remained wary of portals, and Stephen therefore sensitively avoided appearing directly in his personal space. That slight concession aside, Tony’s tower had become a real home-away-from-Sanctum of late. Gesturing a greeting to the unimpressed-looking security guard on the front desk, Stephen strode straight for the private elevator up to the penthouse. His scarred finger hovered over the call button, but he withdrew it without pressing. Taking a deep sigh, he stepped back to check himself over in the mirror-polished metal surround. He tugged his robe straighter and flicked away a lock of stray hair from his forehead.

“ _It’s no big deal_ ,” he said under his breath, dropping into a passable impression of Tony. “ _It’ll just be me and a couple of the guys. I want you to meet them._ ”

I knew the source of Stephen’s anxiety. Whilst visiting Tony was, as already noted, far from a rare occasion, tonight’s invitation was something a little different. Tony had requested we attend a sacred ritual that he and select other inhabitants of the tower regularly took part in. ‘Movie night’, he had called it.

Stephen finally called the elevator, and it arrived and opened with a cheerful ‘ping’. Stephen cast a baleful eye at it before slouching inside. “Oh yeah, nothing to it, “ he grumbled quietly. “Just a cosy night in with Captain America.” He jabbed the button for the suite slightly more vigorously than was necessary.

While I could empathise with Stephen’s discomfort, I was struggling somewhat to understand why he would feel that way. Stephen was the Sorcerer Supreme and the wielder of the Eye of Agamotto, and even before that he had been a respected healer and scientific visionary. Certainly Tony’s companions and fellow Avengers were impressive, but Stephen had proven himself no less than any of them.

Of course I was aware that ‘Captain America’, the focal point of Stephen’s unease, was also Steve Rogers and Tony’s former romantic partner. But it was clear to me, as it should’ve been to Stephen, that he had nothing to fear from the shadow of lovers past. Tony was besotted. He lit up whenever he and Stephen were together, metaphorically _and_ metaphysically. If Stephen’s apprehension had anything to do with how he ranked in Tony’s affection, he was nowhere near as intelligent as I thought him.

The elevator came to a halt. Stephen lifted his chin and rubbed his palms down the front of his robe. He took a deep breath. With a whoosh, the doors retracted, revealing none other than Tony waiting on the other side.

“Hey babe,” Tony greeted, letting Stephen step forward and into the penthouse. He took Stephen’s hand gently and tipped up on his toes to press a quick kiss to Stephen’s lips.

And quick indeed it was, because less than a second later a raucous catcall sounded from behind us.

Tony spun on his heel and stalked into the suite, heading for the lounge and an extended collection of seating set in a semi-circle around a large screen. “Doctor Stephen Strange,” he said, gesturing to a well-built man in purple-tinted glasses who perched on the arm of one of the sofas. “Let me introduce you to Clint Barton. He’s an asshole.” Clint grinned and offered us some popcorn, which Stephen politely declined. 

Sitting with Clint, or rather, huddling up against the far end of the couch, was another man. This one seemed intent on taking up less space than his body required, and his eyes darted up only briefly as Stephen and Tony’s attention fell on him. 

“Bruce Banner,” said Tony, patting the crumpled man on the shoulder. “My good friend, colleague, and occasional rage monster.”

“Smooth, Tony,” Bruce replied, tucking his chin to his chest.

“Isn’t he always?” That comment came from the red-headed woman that had accompanied Tony on his first visit to the Sanctum, who was now curled in a knot of lithe limbs on a plush, burgundy chair. 

“I’m sure you remember Natasha Romanoff,” Tony said.

“Doctor,” greeted Natasha. “Don’t worry. None of us bite.” She cast her eyes over him with a calculating gaze. “Much.”

Stephen nodded courteously. “Ms. Romanoff. A pleasure to see you again,” he said.

She smiled, a bow-lipped little twitch just the right side of a smirk.

“Moving on,” said Tony. He turned to the next couch, where I recognised Steve Rogers as one of the two occupants. Big, broad, and tense-looking, I got the distinct impression I had stitches looser than he was. Pressed up against his side was a solid-looking fellow, maybe a few years his senior. He had dark hair gathered in a band away from his face. As everyone’s attention fell on the couple, the captain’s companion’s hands fluttered, and I saw a glint of silver peak between his glove and the cuff of his twill jacket.

Tony cleared his throat, and moved a fraction closer to Stephen and myself. “Okay, let’s do this,” he said. “Stephen we’re-dating Strange, let me formally introduce you to Steve we-used-to-date Rogers. And this is James they-are-now-dating Barnes.”

Stephen’s eyes pinched as he cast his gaze over the second man. “Is he…”

“I was the Winter Soldier,” growled James. “Now I’m not.”

Tony stiffened, but Stephen seemed more amused than anything. “Congratulations, I think,” he said. “But I was actually going to say ‘is he the one you told me about’. As in, ‘is he the guy that Steve left you for, because he was still in love with’.” He offered a sly smirk alongside the response.

“Oh,” James said. A blush crept up his stubbled cheek. “Uh… yeah, then. Maybe. I guess.”

“He is,” Steve confirmed.

“Then nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes,” Stephen said.

Steve reached for James’s hand, linking their fingers together. A look of unbridled adoration passed between the two.

“You too, Doc,” James replied, turning his attention from Steve only long enough to offer us a small smile. “And call me Bucky.”

A tiny sigh escaped Tony and he seemed to unfold a little from himself. He peered up at Stephen through long lashes and offered him a relieved smile. 

A less-than-subtle cough drew all of our attention to the last occupied seat in the lounge, and the young woman who held it.

Tony’s smile slipped just a little. “And last but by no means least,” he said, linking his arm through Stephen’s and drawing us over to stand before the girl. “A late addition to this evening’s line-up, Wanda Maximoff. You and she have something in common. It’s her first movie night too.”

With the paucity of magic in this realm, I’d not paid much attention to the energies in the room up until that point. But as Stephen inhaled sharply, all of my senses came alert. On the surface, she was just a human female. Attractive by current standards of fashion, I supposed, although the surly look on her face did her few favours. But looking beyond that, into the mystical plane, I saw energy crackling around her, wild and untamed. There was something about it that felt unnatural. It was as though it didn’t truly belong; either to her or this world. 

“I knew you had power,” whispered Stephen, his voice hushed. “But so much?”

The girl lifted her chin and looked up at him. There was a hint of challenge, along with a sparkle of red, in her eyes. “I was given it.”

Stephen shook his head. “Power isn’t given.”

“Of course it is,” Wanda replied. “Life takes your power one day, gives it back another.”

The bitterness in her words shone like a beacon. The energy around her all but masked her aura but, focusing my long-honed gifts, I was able to sense false confidence covering a core of uncertainty, doubt and anger. She was not malevolent, per se, but I rather hoped never to get on the wrong side of her. 

“Tony told us you call yourself the Sorcerer Supreme,” Wanda added, with a hint of a sneer.

“That’s my title. But I’m this reality’s protector against mystical incursions.” Stephen replied matter-of-factly. Yet I could see, by the privilege that was mine to see, that he was reading Wanda the same way I had. “Can’t you tell?”

Wanda shrugged. “Nope,” she said simply.

Stephen gave her a sidelong glance, not quite believing. “Well maybe I can help with that some time,” he said at last.

After a few seconds of Wanda not reacting, Tony stepped in. “Okay…” he said. “I wasn’t expecting _this_ one to be the awkward introduction.” A nervous giggle slipped past his lips. “So, drink?”

“A drink sounds good,” Stephen replied. We followed Tony to the well-stocked bar. 

“Come have a look at the selection,” Tony said, nudging us behind the counter and then easing in behind. He reached around Stephen’s waist to tap the top of a blue bottle. 

“Yamazaki single malt, special reserve” he said. He pressed a little closer to reach the next bottle, a clear spirit. “Hudson copper-pot gin. They’ve not cleaned the still since before the war.”

Stephen leant back against Tony’s chest. “First or second?” he asked.

“Civil,” Tony replied. He smiled as he looped his other arm around Stephen, encircling him into a loose embrace. “And this spicy number,” he said, gesturing to an ornate, frosted bottle. “Is an Akitsuho Junmai.” His pronunciation was flawless.

“Show off,” Stephen murmured.

As a cloak, being close to a person, or even people, was not unusual to me. However, there was heat in their interaction that, some off-colour jokes aside, I didn’t really think Tony intended for me to be a part of. I wriggled and attempted to unbuckle myself without disturbing them.

“Okay, sorry. Were we creasing you?” said Tony, chuckling lightly at my failed attempt. He stepped back a little, allowing Stephen to turn in his arms. Face to face now, and with me in a far less restrictive position, Tony delved his fingers into the silk sash about Stephen’s waist. A naughty little smirk played over his lips.

“I have a feeling,” said Stephen, voice rich and low, “that you had an ulterior motive in asking me if I wanted a drink.”

“Maybe I just wanted to congratulate you on surviving your first round with the world’s most dysfunctional housemates.” Tony replied. “The ones that could make it, at least. Rhodes was pissed I picked a night he and Sam were on a mission to invite you over.”

Stephen smiled, soft and lopsided. “There’s plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tony melted inwards, tipping up on his toes once more. Stephen, however, placed a hand between them; his palm flat to the centre of Tony’s chest. To an outsider, it might have looked like Stephen was denying Tony the kiss he wanted. But to one who knew better, it was clear that Stephen’s hand, forever bent and scarred from his accident, was pressed to the place the seal of Armaan had once been integrated into Tony’s flesh. The Seal - or arc reactor as Tony still insisted on calling it - had left behind its own mark. Stephen’s action was a gesture of trust greater even than a kiss, touching this thing they only openly shared with one another.

“You know,” Tony said, arching his back so he pressed against Stephen more firmly, “we could just skip the movie and go straight to the bedroom.”

Chuckling, Stephen let his hand fall. “You invited me so I could meet your teammates. Not so we could have sex.”

“Both is good?” Tony suggested.

Just then, Clint called over from the sofa. “I can hear you, you know.”

Tony turned his head to reply. “Then turn your hearing aids down.” He shook his head. “So, what’ll it be?” he asked of Stephen, back to the conscientious host. “Whisky, gin or saki? Or anything else, really. There’s beer. Wine?”

“Do you have any cranberry juice?”

Tony blinked. “I mean… sure? But you don’t have to ‘not’ on my account, you know. I’m used to people drinking around me.”

“I know. But cranberry is fine.”

The look Tony gave him was coming close to the one Steve had given to Bucky a short while before; happiness and sadness and pride all in one. Stooping to a fridge below the bar, Tony recovered a glass bottle of ruby liquid. He popped the top off and decanted it into a glass, passing the glass to Stephen. “You want ice?” he said.

With a crook of his eyebrow, Stephen touched a finger to the side of the tumbler and instantly the glass frosted up.

“And you call me a show off,” Tony said.

“Something else we have in common,” Stephen replied.

“Okay!” a voice yelped, this time belonging to Natasha. “We get it. You two are into each other. Now get over here so we can start the movie.”

Tony took Stephen’s free hand and led us back to the lounge and to the final, empty couch that had been left for us.

“What are we watching anyway?” Stephen asked out of the corner of his mouth as they settled down.

“Some historical drama-suspense thing,” Tony said, equally covertly. “Don’t know, didn’t pick it. You Do Not Argue with Miss Itsy-Bitsy Spider on movie night.”

“Does she really bite?”

“Only if she likes you,” Tony replied. Stephen’s eyes widened, and Tony gave him an enigmatic grin. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be fine.”

****

“You know,” said Clint as the credits began. “That guy playing Turing looked kinda familiar.”

Natasha threw a cushion at him. “Everyone looks familiar to you.”

Bruce stirred, slouched down in his seat, and his eyes closed. Truth be told, I had thought him asleep. “Actors are all cast from the same mould these days,” he muttered. “Not a Cary Grant among them.”

“Oh god,” Clint groaned. “Not the Cary Grant mancrush again.”

Bruce opened his eyes a sliver. They took me aback. I had casually ascribed brown eyes to him, along with his dark hair and tanned skin, but there seemed to me to be a hint of luminous green shining in their depths.

“It’s not a crush,” the crumpled scientist said. “He was the best actor of his generation.”

I noticed more than one mouth miming the words along with him.

“He reminded me a bit of a young Cary, actually,” Bucky added. “Same kind of guy-next-door good looks.”

Steve turned to him. “Should I be jealous?” he asked.

Clint snorted. “If anyone should be jealous, it’s Tony.”

The rest of the room looked over to us, Stephen nestled down in the cushions with Tony’s arm slung about us both. 

Tony wriggled in his seat. I couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. The man in the movie had been tall and imposing with distinctive yet attractive features, and the character he played was terse and brilliant, but neither were so extraordinary as to provoke this level of cryptic discourse.

“Don’t know what you mean,” Tony said, a nervous chuckle following his words.

Wanda whined, the first noise she’d made since before the film began. “Oh my god,” she said. “Will one of you just say he looks like Tony’s boyfriend.”

I fluttered. That actor? Like my Stephen?

Stephen himself was scowling. “I’m not seeing it,” he said.

Tony squeezed Stephen’s shoulder, fingers tightening on my as well. “I’m sorry Doctor Darling,” he said, “but I’ve got to agree. Shave your beard and strip you both naked, and even I’d be hard pressed to tell you apart.”

“Eugh, keep your kinks under the bed, guys,” Clint said.

Steve had a finger resting on his lips, and a thoughtful frown on his brow. “Nakedness doesn’t automatically equate to pornography, Hawkeye,” he said.

Clint grimaced. “And none of us needed Captain America to say the word ‘pornography’.”

“Sex is nothing to be ashamed of,” persisted Steve, over Clint loudly singing ‘la la la la’.

“I’m with Cap,” said Tony, ignoring the chanting. “Pretty much everyone here has slept with someone else here.”

“Speak for yourself,” Wanda sniffed.

“Most of them you,” Natasha added.

Tony shrugged. “Well, obviously,” he said.

“You used to date this punk?” Bucky remarked, elbowing Steve solidly in the side.

Tony snorted. “Sure. But his standards have dropped since, don’t worry.”

Clint leaned towards Bruce’s side of the couch and loudly whispered, “You want me to refill your popcorn? This is about to get good.”

Personally, I had a feeling it was about to get anything but good. However, before the argument could escalate, Steve snagged Bucky’s sleeve with his fingers and shook his head faintly. After a long moment, Bucky took a breath and let it out slowly. 

Beside me, I could see Tony’s fingers clench and then relax. “Yep, juuuuuust fine,” he said.

****

The conversation continued, but the mood was more subdued. After a while, Bruce announced he was going to bed, and I was somewhat jealous I couldn’t join him. With the others walking on eggshells - or attempting to smash them, in Clint’s case - Bruce radiated an air of serenity I found relaxing. I couldn’t imagine him smashing anything.

Somehow the topic turned to Bucky and Steve, who had resumed what was apparently quite a long-standing relationship, and their recent decision to move in together.

“I mean, it’s gotta be weird, right?” insisted Clint, flipping one of the last pieces of popcorn into his mouth. “Him getting big all of a sudden. Tell me, Barnes, is he… y’know… in proportion?”

“I’m _right here_ , Clint,” Steve said.

“I can answer that one if robocop wants to take a pass,” offered Tony.

“Oh, I wish you wouldn’t,” Natasha said, as Wanda rolled her eyes.

A smirk curled Bucky’s lip and his eyes glittered in a way that matched his metal arm. “Well, as the only one here that can provide a before and after comparison, I can say that Stevie has _never_ been in proportion.”

Stephen, caught in the process of taking a sip of cranberry juice, spluttered and snorted at that. Tony rubbed his back soothingly, encouraging him to swallow. He finally managed to gulp the liquid away and gasped. As he did, Tony bent in and nuzzled the skin under his ear.

“There’s such a thing as ‘too big’,” Tony said quietly. 

Were I not already scarlet, I think I would’ve turned so. I looked over at Steve, very deliberately focussing only on his upper half. He seemed to share my embarrassment, rapidly going a colour not far from my own.

“So…” Steve said in our direction, and I could hear the calculated diversion in his tone. “Is that something you guys are thinking about?”

“Your penis?” Clint said. “Because I think we’re all thinking about that now.”

Steve scowled. “No,” he said. “Moving in together?”

Tony had stayed snuggled into Stephen’s side, resting his head on Stephen’s shoulder. I was acting as a loose cover for them both. At the Captain’s query, however, I felt the pair of them go very still.

Stephen cleared his throat. “I… uh…”

Tony sat up. As he brushed me back from around his waist, I could feel the agitated flutter of his fingers. “It’s… too soon to talk about something like that,” he said, turning to Stephen. “Isn’t it?”

Stephen’s skin grew hot. He draped me over the back of the couch between them. “Well… I can’t leave the Sanctum unguarded for long periods of time,” he replied.

Tony nodded a little too vigorously. “And I’m needed here for SI or Avengers business all hours of the day and night.”

“So no,” Stephen concluded weakly, scratching the end of his nose. “We haven’t really thought about it.”

The uncomfortable pause that followed his assertion dragged on a little too long.

At last, Clint broke the silence with a chimed, “Awk-ward.”

“Eugh,” Wanda added, which seemed to have been her stock contribution all evening. 

Steve, blushing even more fiercely than before, attempted to backpedal. “I didn’t mean to… it’s just you’ve been seeing a lot of each other, and I thought maybe…”

Tony cut him off with a wave of his hand. “It’s fine.”

“It’s obviously not,” Steve answered stubbornly.

Bucky put a hand on Steve’s knee. “Remember what we talked about, sweetie?”

I saw Steve’s jaw ripple with bitten-back words, then he nodded. “You’ll get there, Tony,” he said.

Tony smiled politely. “Maybe I’m happy where I am,” he replied.

Under her breath, Wanda grumble an appeal to the heavens. 

“No one is making you stay, O’Hara” Tony said, looking pointedly at her. “In fact, remind me why you picked tonight of all nights to suddenly become social?”

She considered Tony over the rim of non-existent glasses. “Steve invited me,” she said.

Tony slid forward in his chair and snatched up his bottle of his alcohol-free beer. “Of _course_ he did,” he replied.

Bucky was the next on the edge of his seat. “And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” he demanded.

Tony met him glower for glower, and eased gently apart from them, as though readying himself for action. I noticed Steve had angled himself in a position that could be used to either restrain Bucky or assist him and, honestly, I wouldn’t have liked to guess which.

“Oh _nothing_ ,” sneered Tony.

“Jeez guys,” Clint said, stepping between them. At least someone was retaining their sense. “Either fight or fuck but seriously, all this tension is helping no one.”

Or not.

“Take a break, Barton” Tony snapped, and Natasha shot a narrow-eyed scowl at him. Massaging the bridge of his nose for a second and moderating his voice, Tony continued. “Please, Clint. Sit down. I just wanted a nice night in with my friends.” The last sounded almost plaintive.

Steve put a hand to Bucky’s shoulder and both men’s eyes cast down remorsefully. Even Clint had the decency to look chagrined, and Natasha nodded curtly at him to retake his seat. The starched-straight line of Stephen’s spine begin to soften beneath me and I allowed myself to think we had avoided something regrettable. That was, at least, until Wanda erupted. 

“Friends,” she sneered, springing to her feet and shaking her finger at the two couples. “All night you’ve danced around each other. It’s been like watching a poor ballet. A performance. A _lie_.” She stomped her way through the middle of the slack-jawed crowd, turning only as she got into the elevator.

“If you were really friends, you wouldn’t fight or get angry or lie to each other,” she said. The doors of the elevator began to close and I, if no one else, heard her parting shot.

_“No more lies.”_

Inexplicably, I felt my fibres lift, as though a great charge of static passed over me. Steven looked over at Tony, eyes wide, and I wondered if he felt something too.

“Well, she’s intense,” he said.

“One of my mortars killed her parents,” Tony replied flatly.

Natasha sighed and unfolded herself from her chair. “Let me guess. None of you boys are going to go after her and make sure she’s okay?”

“No,” said each of the men, or variants thereof.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Congratulations for fulfilling society’s expectation of placing the woman in a nurturing role.” She marched towards the elevator. 

Tony’s eyes strayed to her retreating back, lips pursed thoughtfully. “I actually think Nat has the right idea,” he said. “All of you, shoo.”

Clint scowled from the far couch. “You literally just told me to stay,” he whined. “Stay Barton, fetch Barton. Roll over. Did I switch bodies with Lucky again?”

“No Clint,” Tony said levelly, “But I’m feeling somewhat uptight and I find blowjobs are an excellent way to relax. So unless you’re planning on helping with that...”

“Nope!” Clint replied, clamping his hands over his ears again. “I’m going!”

Whilst Steve’s face flushed, he at least managed to get to his feet gracefully and hold out his hand for Bucky to take. “It’s pretty late anyway,” he said. “And Tony really does like blowjobs.”

Bucky’s face flashed a frown at Steve and then he nudged Clint none-too-gently towards the elevator. “I know somebody else who likes blowjobs,” he grumbled as they went past, “and he’s gonna have to do some sweet talking tonight if he wants one now.”

My last view before the elevator door was Clint’s horrified face.

Their departure left just the three of us. Which was fine by me. For all her petulance, Wanda had a point. Those people, Tony’s _friends_ , had done nothing but tease, taunt and bait him all evening. Not that Tony was innocent in it all, but I had learned over the months since he and Stephen had first met that sarcasm and humour were his defense mechanisms. Considering these people had known Tony longer than either Stephen or myself, I found it irksome that they failed to recognise it.

Tony groaned as he stood, and then offered a wan smile back at Stephen. “Well I thought that went…”

“Fucking terribly?” Stephen cut in. 

I was taken a little aback by his candour, but Tony laughed and tugged Stephen to his feet. “Oh, it was a garbage fire,” he said, eyes crinkled at the corners. “But there’s not many newcomers Cap would let his guard down around. He doesn’t like just anyone knowing that he’s as much a dick as the rest of us.”

Stephen gathered Tony in to his chest, nuzzling his nose into the wispy curls of Tony’s quiffed-back hair. “Speaking of dicks,” he said, voice muffled by the press of his lips to Tony’s forehead. “You mentioned something about a blowjob?”

Tony chuckled, relaxing into the embrace with his ear pressed to Stephen’s chest. “Honestly, I’d rather we go to bed and you stroke my hair until I fall asleep,” he said quietly. Then his spine stiffened and he pulled himself back, staring up into Stephen’s eyes. “I mean, blow jobs are fine,” he added hurriedly. “If you want a blow job…”

Stephen cocked his head to one side, arms still looped loosely around Tony’s back. “No, Tony. I’m here for _you_ , not just the exceptional sex.”

Tony’s cheeks grew a little rosy. “You say the sweetest things, Doctor darling,” he said. “Let’s go to bed.”

After they left, I slid down the back of the sofa and flopped into a puddle on the still-warm cushions. A few moments passed before a long, disembodied whistle sounded through the suite, followed by a lilting Irish brogue. “Wow, am I glad that’s over,” said FRIDAY.

“You and me both,” I said, spreading myself further.

“Tony’s been planning this for ages. It’s all he’s talked to DUM-E and me about in weeks.”

“Stephen was so nervous about meeting the others I found him reading a book on how to traverse the dark dimension earlier in the week.”

FRIDAY made a throaty noise of dismay, “I wasn’t even that worried until the captain said he was bringing his new boyfriend along.”

“Yeah, wow,” I replied. “That was pretty insensitive.”

“Totally,” FRIDAY said. “Humans can be such idiots at times.”

It was hard to disagree with a statement like that.

****

Morning came to the tower, sunlight bright and brilliant as it poured in through the floor-to ceiling-glass. Several rays glanced across me, warming where they touched. As early as it was, it wasn’t long before the door to the penthouse’s bedroom cracked open and Tony emerged, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and loose undershorts. He blinked, still clearly half-asleep, and with the sunlight painting his features in a glow the same colour as his aura. Yawning and stretching, a gap appeared between his upper and lower garments, exposing a strip of stomach.

Dressed, or rather _undressed_ as he was, I was struck by the thought that he must be cold. While the sun was warm, the ambient temperature in the tower was more suitable for sleeping than wandering about in one’s underwear. As outerwear, the solution to this seemed very simple. I floated to where he stood and encircled him. His compact frame was easy to swaddle: he was neither as tall nor as broad-shouldered as Stephen. In fact his build reminded me of the Immortal Ignacious - whose name had long since proven inaccurate - but who had shared with Tony a pleasingly ample behind. And when one of the facts of your existence is being sat upon for long periods of time, that is something you naturally notice.

“Should I leave you two alone?”

Stephen had appeared from the bedroom, more or less fully clothed, with just his sash needing securing. He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to Tony’s cheek.

“You could always join us,” Tony said. Taking it as a cue, I snagged Stephen into the embrace. It was a little bit of a stretch to achieve, I had always before been a cloak made for one, and I ended up pulling him against Tony with a little more vigour than I’d intended.

“Oof,” Tony said, laughing. “Nice. Group hug.”

Stephen wriggled. “I swear it’s only like this around you.”

“If you don’t like it, you could always ask it to stop,” Tony suggested. 

“Tony, it’s a _cloak_.

Pointedly, I released my hold on them and floated free.

Tony grinned. “See?” he said.

“Coincidence,” Stephen replied.

I picked up my corners and folded them at chest height, tipping my collar to one side. In an unexpected show of solidarity, Tony mirrored my stance. “Really, Stephen,” he chided. “I would expect you to be more open-minded. After all, you’re a…” he paused to mime something very close to the third casting sigil, “wizard.”

Stephen drew himself up haughtily. “Tony, I love you, but if you call me a wizard again I _will_ turn you into a frog.”

I froze. Tony froze. 

“What?” Stephen said. “I’m allowed to make jokes too.”

Tony’s mouth opened, and a slight croak escaped before he managed to speak. “You’ve never…” he began faintly. “You’ve never said that before.”

Stephen’s brow dropped into a deep frown. “Excuse me?” he said.

“You told me you love me.”

Stephen’s surprised jerk erased the scowl off his face, and the expression that replaced it was wholly indignant. “Well of course I do,” he said.

Tony blinked several times. “But you’ve never said it,” he said.

Stephen put his index finger to his lips and tapped twice. “No,” he said.

“Why?”

The pause after Tony’s question was a little longer than before. “Because I thought you’d freak out,” said Stephen bluntly.

“Because of my lingering issues with intimacy from having my heart figuratively and literally broken one too many times?” Tony replied. His eyes went wide. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Stephen nodded.

“Coffee,” Tony grumbled, suddenly fascinated by his feet. “It’s early. I need coffee. C’mon, we need to go to the kitchen”

“You don’t have a coffee maker up here?”

“The one down there is better,” Tony replied. “And I need really good coffee.”

Stephen wrinkled his nose. “And what if your friends are down there?”

“Ah…” said Tony, understanding. “Don’t worry. By this time, Cap will be out on a run. Clint doesn’t get up before noon unless the world is ending. Natasha likes to take breakfast on her balcony, and Wanda…” he flinched a little bit at the girl’s name “...Wanda doesn’t tend to go anywhere I am.” He forced a small smile. “Worst case, Bruce might be down there drinking tea. But no one can dislike Bruce.”

“I like Bruce,” Stephen conceded. He sighed.

“Right, so come on,” Tony replied, tugging at him once more.

Stephen looked him up and down. “Shouldn’t you put some pants on first?” he asked.

“Ehh...” Tony replied non committedly. 

As Stephen appeared to be resolute in not allowing Tony out of the penthouse without some extra layers, and admittedly slightly biased towards the mechanic at that precise moment, I drifted over to him and attached myself to his shoulders.

Tony’s grin lit up the room. He drew me closed over his bare legs. “There, problem solved,” he said. 

Stephen grumbled but allowed Tony and I to lead him to the elevator.

****

“Are you going to admit you were wrong or should I say it,” Stephen asked, looking around the rec room.

Clint was slouched over the kitchen table, forehead pressed to the surface. An empty cup ringed with dark brown stains rested in his hand. The other two occupants, Steve and Bucky, seemed to have fared better than the rest, although I was certain I had seen them both drink heavily the night before. 

“Oh, I was wrong,” Tony said. Stephen shot him a sidelong look of surprise, but Tony seemed not to notice as he turned his attention to Bucky. “I guess I should get used to seeing you over the breakfast table.”

Steve blushed and spoke on Bucky’s behalf. “It was late. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Mind?” drawled Tony. “Hey, if you want to be outnumbered by assassins in your own home you go right ahead. Speaking of…” He made a show of looking around the all-male room. “Anyone seen Natasha since she went after Wanda?”

Bucky shrugged. Steve shook his head. 

A groan rose from the heap of humanity that was Clint. Without lifting his head he pointed at the refrigerator. “Note,” he mumbled. 

Tony strode into the room and plucked a piece of paper from the front of the fridge. As he had assured, no-one questioned his lack of trousers. He cleared his throat.

“Dear idiots,” he began. “Wanda and I have gone to a spa. Tony, I’ve taken your credit card. Steve, you’re going to need a new bottle of whiskey.”

“My presidential reserve,” Steve whimpered quietly.

“See you soon, love and kisses…”

“It does _not_ say that,” said Bucky. Tony turned the piece of paper around and tapped at the line which did, indeed, clearly say ‘love and kisses’.

Clint groaned again. “Oh god, can you please talk quieter?” He lifted his head just high enough for us to see his bloodshot blue eyes.

“Little hungover are you, champ?” said Tony, in a voice that was effortlessly chipper.

“I didn’t realise the beer was European,” Clint grumbled in reply. “How does the whole continent not have liver disease?”

Stephen shrugged. “Many of them do,” he said. “It just goes undiagnosed in about forty percent of cases.”

Clint dropped his head back to the table with an audible thud. “Thanks, Doc,” he muttered. The next sound he made appeared to be snoring.

Steve scooped a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and looked up at Tony. “I should apologise for last night,” he said. Then he took up his spoon again and resumed eating.

Tony blinked at him, then glanced at Stephen. Stephen shrugged and Tony went about making coffee. After a few seconds, Bucky nudged Steve in the side.

“Steve, honey,” he prompted.

Steve looked back up. “Hmm?” he said. His brow knitted briefly. “Oh. Okay. I mean, I was just going to say that I should, not…” he shook his head, cutting himself off. “Tony, Stephen, I’m sorry for pressing you about your personal business last night.”

“Don’t mention it,” Stephen mumbled, accepting a cup of coffee from Tony.

“No, no,” Steve continued. “Just because Bucky and I are taking that step doesn’t mean that you two are ready to. And, even if you are, it’s not really any of my business”

Lifting an eyebrow at the effuse, if slightly dogmatic, apology, Tony tapped a spoon on the rim of his own mug. “No, I think what my dear doctor meant was ‘don’t mention it’. As in, don’t bring it back up. Ever.”

Stephen was nodding. “That was indeed what I meant.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “Right. I see. It’s just… I’m happy for you, you know?”

I heard Tony suck in a deep draught of air.

“I do care about you, Tony,” Steve continued. “I don’t regret the time we spent together, and I’m pleased you’re with someone who can give you the love you deserve.”

Tony brightened, eyes glittering. “He actually does love me.”

Bucky took Steve’s hand. “And I love you, Steve” he said. He nuzzled his nose into Steve’s ear and blew a raspberry on his cheek.

Steve wriggled in his seat. “Not here,” he scolded. “You know what that does to me.”

Clint grunted, his noisy breathing apparently not indicating unconsciousness, and propped his chin onto his palm. “That’s so wrong,” he said.

Tony began to laugh, and I was grateful that he seemed to be taking the jibes less to heart than at the close of the night before. However, a slight hum from Stephen beside us drew my attention. 

“He’s right,” he said. He pushed back his chair in order to climb to his feet and pace. After two lengths of the kitchen, he stopped. “My clinical training includes the ability to recognise and respond to unusual behaviour, and throughout my career I was renowned for spotting the symptoms that other people missed.”

“O... kay?” Tony said, “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, sweetie, but I promise you’re very smart.” He turned to the others. “Genius needs reassurance,” he explained.

Stephen levelled a finger on him. “Exactly,” he said. “You know that, and I know that…”

“Trust me, everybody knows that,” Clint grumbled into the table.

“But we’d never normally say it out loud,” Stephen concluded.

Steve was slowly nodding his head. “It’s true. Not that I don’t mean any of the things I said, but the fact that I’m actually sitting here saying them…”

Tony hitched in his seat, tucking me tightly behind his knees. His left leg jiggled briefly. “Steve, tell everyone why we broke up” he said.

Steve’s cheeks went from pale to rosey in the beat of a heart. His eyes screwed closed, and his voice was strained, as though he were struggling with the words. “He proposed,” he said. “Tony asked me to marry him and I said no.”

“He did _what now?_ ” asked Bucky.

“You did what, now?” Stephen echoed, dropping heavily back down into his seat.

“I proposed,” Tony said, offering Stephen a soft smile. “He said no. He told me he was still in love with someone else.” Tony pulled his index fingers into points and aimed them at Bucky. 

Bucky, in turn, slapped Steve around the ear. “You never told me you let it get that far before you broke it off!”

“Ow!” Steve rubbed where Bucky’s hand had made contact. “I didn’t know he was gonna do it, I swear Buck.”

Clint turned his head in Steve’s direction. “Still a dick move, Cap,” he said. 

In the face of unified disdain, Steve seemed to shrink. He turned a spurned-puppy look on Tony. “Why would you ask me that?” he whined.

Tony dipped his head. “Trust me, this is not my favourite topic either, but I had an idea and I needed to confirm it.”

“And that is?” questioned Steve.

“We can’t lie,” Tony replied flatly, looking up and into Steve’s eyes. “We’ve kept what happened between us secret for more than two years. The only way you’d tell anyone now is if you couldn’t help yourself.” His mouth set in a grim smile.

“Sodium pentathol,” growled Bucky, fist landing heavily on the tabletop and causing Clint to jump upright, fully awake at last. “Hydra used it all the time.”

Stephen waved his hand to dismiss the suggestion. “It’s a misconception that sodium pentathol forces you to tell the truth, it just makes you more susceptible to believing you want to tell the truth.”

“So we’ve not been drugged?” Clint asked.

“Oh no,” replied Stephen firmly, “we’ve almost certainly been drugged. Just not with sodium pentathol.”

Tony passed his palm over a sensor at the centre of the table and a blue field of energy sprang to life from within what I’d assumed was wood. “Banner?” he said. The blue field wavered but nothing else happened. “Hey, Banner? You there?”

After a few more seconds, a glowing and somewhat dishevelled image that I recognised as Doctor Banner appeared a few inches above the table, clutching a bed sheet to his bare chest. He leaned in, the projection moving with him. “Hey guys,” he said, and I noticed some tension in his voice. “Wuh… what’s up?”

“Hey, buddy,” Tony said. “Were you still asleep?”

“No,” Bruce replied tersely. “Sexual stress test.”

Clint choked. “What’s a…” He got no further as, at a sharp nod from Steve, Bucky clamped his hand over his mouth.

“We should probably avoid personal questions while we’re like this,” Steve explained.

Bruce frowned. “Like what?” he asked suspiciously. “Tony, like what?”

“Oh, you know Brucie-poo,” Tony said, “the usual. Smart. Charming. Handsome. And apparently none of us can lie now.”

“Is this a joke?” Bruce asked, his lip twisting into a a not-quite-sneer.

“Tell us what a sexual stress test is, Bruce,” Tony said before anyone could stop him.

Without even blinking, Bruce answered. “It’s where I masturbate for as long as I can without raising my heart rate above the trigger point for the other guy.” As the last word came out of his mouth, his eyes widened. “Goddammit, Tony,” he cursed. “Right. No lies. I get it.”

“Your lab or mine?” Tony enquired.

“Eighteen C,” said Bruce. “It has the full biospec set up. And reinforced walls, just in case.”

No one asked in case of what.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“See?” Tony said. “Problem solved. We can’t tell each other the truth when we’re kissing.”_

Bruce was already waiting as the six of us - I included myself in the numbers as I was no longer attached to any human - spilled into the lab. 

“I’ve got a sample of my blood in the centrifuge,” he said. His shoulders were hunched, eyes never leaving the workbench. “And I’ve determined that this is a localised phenomenon.” He waved a hand at a TV muted in the background. 

The ticker tracking across the bottom of the screen displayed the headline: ‘PRESIDENT’S POPULARITY AT ALL TIME HIGH’. 

“No sudden outbreaks of honesty there,” he concluded with a sniff.

We all approached the bench Bruce was sat at, but Tony led the way; his head bowed sheepishly. He held out his hand, offering it as a closed fist towards Bruce. “We good, Brucie-bear?” he asked. “No hard feelings?”

“If that’s a joke, Tony…” Bruce began dangerously. 

“I swear,” Tony replied earnestly. “I promise. I just meant… I’m sorry.” Tony stretched out his fist a little further.

The tension in Bruce’s shoulders lifted just a little as he straightened. With a sigh he lifted his own fist and bumped it against Tony’s. 

“Science bros,” Tony said with a sing-song lilt and a smile.

At a shrill beep from one of the machines, Bruce stabbed at an input embedded in the polished desktop. An image sprang up, backlit from within the worktop; concave discs floating about in a colourless medium.

We all drew closer, forming a horseshoe around the seated scientist. Stephen, however, leaned in a bit further than the rest of us to study the display. “The morphology is altered” he said after a moment or two.

“Not for me,” Bruce answered with a shrug. “Gamma residuals cause some surface protein changes, but there’s nothing unexpected.”

“Anything on the chemical analysis?”

“Normal. No trace, no tox, zero pathogens...”

“Genetic anomalies?”

“Again, I’m not the best baseline, but the helical arrangement is as per.”

“May I?” Stephen asked, putting a hand to Bruce’s shoulder.

“Sure,” the seated scientist said.

Stephen pressed a few buttons and the image shown flat on the desktop blossomed up into a floating blue display that hung over it. He brushed aside several of the less-well resolved discs and then centered in on a single ghostly object. “What it means…” he said, touching the image so that it zoomed in, “is that there’s no biological or chemical evidence of tampering in Bruce’s blood to explain why he is unable to lie.”

Bucky was staring at the demonstration with wide, wondrous eyes. Clint was spinning his chair in circles, ignoring it. Steve squinted at the image, as though trying to see the things Stephen was saying were not there.

Tony, however, shook his head. “You do realise you just mansplained to me?” he said. “To _me_ , Stephen.”

“You’re not a doctor,” Stephen replied.

Tony drew himself up indignantly. “I am, actually,” he said.

“Well, not a real one,” said Stephen. I caught a flash of horror in his eyes, but before he could make it better - or more likely worse - Bruce slid his chair back between them smoothly.

“Obviously I’m going to want a sample from each of you to verify the results,” he said. Without waiting for a response, he pressed a metal implement to Tony’s arm and with a hiss, the vial filled with blood.

“Ow!” Tony yelped, curling his arm up to protect it.

A small, smug grin twitched Bruce’s lips. “Not so much fun when you’re the one being poked, is it?” he said. 

“No,” admitted Tony sullenly.

Bruce collected samples from each man in turn and loaded them into the diagnostic machine. He carefully removed his own spent blood and locked it into a metal case. 

I hung back from them as we waited for the tests to run. Steve and Bucky, after a quick shared glance, had retired to one side of the lab. Bucky seemed disquieted by the gleaming medical equipment all around, and Steve stroked his face and rubbed his shoulders while they spoke in quiet words too low for me to hear. Clint, apparently bored with his aimlessly spinning, now launched himself one way and then the other across the lab. With each pass, he fired a makeshift slingshot at the television screen and the badly dressed man mouthing muted platitudes on it. Oblivious to everything else going on around them, Stephen and Bruce were arguing through options. With each fresh rejection, Stephen’s face grew stormier.

It was a rare thing to see Tony when he wasn’t the centre of attention, and if anything that made me watch him all the more closely. His leaned casually against one of the tables, but his eyes followed Stephen and Bruce as they worked. I could see pride in his expression along with some faint amusement at their evident frustration. Only occasionally did his face fall into something a little more lost, and when it did I saw his fingers flutter. After a while, he walked over to the two of them and pressed into Stephen’s side.

Stephen jerked and glanced about nervously, a reaction that I’d not seen since the earliest days of his and Tony’s relationship. He let a small smile past his lips, but I noticed he kept his attention on the calculations Bruce was inscribing. 

Finally, the machine pinged once more and Bruce pulled up the results. He stared at the display and grunted.

“What?” asked Tony.

“See for yourself,” Bruce replied, flicking his wrist so that the display expanded outward.

Stephen squinted between the six sets of results as they circled around us. “Okay, that’s weird,” he said.

Steve left Bucky sitting on a desk to draw closer. “You found something?” he asked. 

“No,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “That’s what’s weird. Everyone is as normal as they get. Bloods are as expected. I’ve been running passive EKG and EEGs, but they show no changes from last night’s baselines.” With a fitful wave of his hand, he shut down the dancing display. “I don’t think we’re looking at a physiological causative agent,” he said.

Stephen’s brow folded pensively. “I agree.”

Clint stopped midspin and looked admirably straight at Stephen. “Could we all have gone nuts?” he suggested. 

While Stephen looked more open to the suggestion, Bruce shook his head. “It’s hard to imagine a single event that could result in all of us suffering a psychological break at the same time. We’re a pretty… neurodiverse group.” He aimed the closing statement at Tony, staring hopefully up at him.

Slowly, each set of eyes followed his lead until they were all settled on Tony. The last was Stephen, who glanced first at the floor and clenched his jaw, before meeting Tony’s gaze.

“Oh so _now_ my doctorates are good enough for you,” Tony mocked.

“Tony,” Stephen scolded.

Tony’s reply was a wide, toothsome smile. His press smile, as he’d once called it in my presence.

“Please, Tony. Bruce and I are out of options.”

I had never understood what Stephen meant when he referred to people having shit-eating grins, but in that moment - as Tony’s face cracked even further into a smirk - it suddenly made sense. “Say it.”

Stephen glanced briefly heavenward. “Doctor Stark,” he corrected. “Doctor Banner and I would appreciate your input.”

Tony finger-gunned, first at Stephen and then pointed at the various workstations around the room in turn. Each sprang to life as he did, as though he were conducting the electronics in a grand orchestration. 

“FRIDAY,” he said, “start an analysis of any electromagnetic, atmospheric or seismological disturbances over the last twelve hours, focussed on a six block radius around the tower. Pull the records on ambient and directed infrasound, ultrasound, sonic texture. The works.” He put his hands to Bruce’s shoulders and squeezed. “Don’t worry, buddy. Physics has got your back.”

Bruce made a curious, throttled grunt. “You realise I’m _both_ kinds of doctor, right?” he asked.

Tony beamed. “And that’s why I’m going to let you check the high-end emissions spectrum.”

“Gee. Thanks,” Bruce drawled.

Bucky had crept forward while we were all distracted. “How long will all that take?” he asked. I saw Steve straighten, as though he could reassure his partner with a patriotic stance.

“FRIDAY?” Tony asked.

“Anything up to an hour, boss.”

Clint groaned. “That long? Imagine how much stupid stuff we could all say in an hour.”

“Imagine how much stupid stuff _you_ could say in a minute,” Tony countered.

“Okay,” said Steve. “Hawkeye has a point. Nobody seems to be in imminent danger, but it would probably be best if we all kept to ourselves for a while.” He glanced at Bucky, offering him a coy smile. “Not that I’ve got anything to hide from you, pal.”

“Course not,” Bucky replied, grinning rakishly. “You’ve always been a paragon of honesty. Never lyin’ on enlistment forms or anything like that.”

Steve was already heading for the door. “Oh my god, Buck,” he said. “Are you ever gonna let that go?”

Bucky jogged a few steps to catch him up and slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Not anytime soon,” he said. Their voices faded as the door to the lab closed behind them.

“Okay,” said Tony, clapping his hands together. “Whatever else the grandpas are, they’ve got the right idea about getting out of here.” He turned and winked at Stephen. “Want to go play good doctor, bad doctor?” he asked.

Stephen pursed his lips and shook his head.

Clint groaned. “I’m going to my happy place until all this is over.” He stalked over to a gridded wall panel and lifted the metal plate off its hinges. Then he climbed inside the tunnel that the panel had concealed. The creaking and shuffling that echoed out into the lab faded slowly.

“I… didn’t think he actually did that,” Bruce said. 

Tony shrugged “Guess we’re all learning a few things,” he said.

Bruce blushed. “I’m going to go back to my room. I can monitor the results from there. If I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Just try and keep the stress testing to a minimum, okay?” Tony teased.

“You _are_ stress testing,” Bruce replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose with pinched finger and thumb. He gathered up some papers and a Starkpad and left the lab by the door.

“The suite?” Tony prompted, lifting his eyebrows suggestively.

Stephen frowned. “Okay,” he said. “C’mon.”

His reluctance surprised me and, on instinct, I opened my eye to the aether plane to examine his energies. Almost immediately, I hit a psychic wall. I knew that Stephen, as Sorcerer Supreme, had the capability to block me, but he had never done so before. He narrowed his eyes at me, perhaps sensing my curious examination of his defences.

“You too,” he said. I fluttered over to him and clipped myself to the thick cloth of his robe. He turned his head and brushed a mote of dust from my collar. Tony was already heading out of the room.

“Please don’t make me tell him,” Stephen whispered.

****

Tony stepped out of the elevator and into the suite, hips swaying as he walked. He turned to watch Stephen and I exit behind him. I recognised the look on his face, flirtation as a cover for uncertainty. He smirked as he leant against the back of one of the couches. 

“So should I bother getting into my jeans or am I just going to have to take them off again?” he quipped.

At least Stephen smiled, albeit thinly, and the set of his shoulders still tense beneath me. “It might be if I went back to the Sanctum,” he said.

“You sure you don’t want to take advantage of the situation and ask me all my dirty little secrets?” Tony offered.

“No!” Stephen said hurriedly. “No,” he corrected as Tony lifted an eyebrow. “I just know you need to focus on getting to the bottom of whatever’s happening.”

Tony’s lips pursed, almost amused. “Is that what’s wrong?” he said. “You can’t fix this?”

“It’s… not that,” Stephen said.

Tony pushed himself up off the couch and stalked back to us. He bunched his fingers into the fabric covering Stephen’s chest. “Then what is it, _doctor_?”

Stephen turned sharply away and took four long steps away from Tony.Then he spun on his heel and marched three steps back. “Because of that,” he said.

Tony looked at Stephen as though he were speaking an obscure dialect of Sanskrit. “Excuse me?” he said. “Because you, me, and Bruce got into pissing contest over our qualifications?” He waved a dismissive hand. “That’s every science convention ever. Forget it. It’s not important.”

“It is to me,” Stephen replied.

Tony’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “Um, okay…”

“And it is to you too,” Stephen said, cutting him off. “If we can’t lie, we can’t temper our responses. That’s the issue.”

Tony stared for a long moment and then shook his head. He went over to the bar and poured himself a glass of water. He took a few short sips and then shook his head again. “You know, one of the biggest criticisms I’ve had in my life is that I’m bad at opening up to people. And now you’re saying it’s a problem that we’re in a position to be _nothing but honest_?”

“Yes,” Stephen replied quietly, ducking his chin to his chest.

“That’s pretty fucked-up you know?”

When Stephen looked up, his face was flushed and his eyes sparkled with barely-restrained tears. “Tony, I’m… I’m kind of a jerk,” he gritted out. “I’m egotistical, antagonistic, demanding…”

Tony put his glass down and stalked back to stand in front of Stephen. He reached out with both hands and took hold of Stephen’s biceps firmly, giving him a little shake. “Look who you’re talking to,” he said with a wry grin which softened to a smile as Stephen’s eyes met his. “I care about you, asshole,” he said, and then lifted his hand to brush back a few, drooping bangs from Stephen’s forehead.”I _love_ you.”

Stephen, often the more restrained of the two in matters of romance, swooped. Tony made a delighted-sounding ‘erk!’ as their lips met and mouths joined, and they stayed that way for several long, panting moments.

“See?” Tony said, pulling back at last. “Problem solved. We can’t tell each other the truth when we’re kissing.”

Stephen dipped his head to press his forehead to Tony’s. “You have the damndest way, Stark,” he replied in a velvet deep voice. His hands settled on Tony’s backside and pulled him closer, and Tony reacted with a lopsided smile and flashing eyes. 

“I knew I wasn’t going to need pants,” Tony said smugly, smoothly guiding them backwards towards the bedroom. “That’s the true measure of genius.”

“Door,” Stephen murmured against his lips. “Door.”

I wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but as Tony was fumbling blindly behind himself, I decided to facilitate their progression. Seperating from them, I darted ahead and opened the door. 

“Thanks, buddy,” Tony said as they passed. I waited until I heard the soft creak of bedsprings and Tony’s little ‘oof’, and then closed the door behind them.

I slunk back to the couch and spread myself over it. “FRIDAY? Are you there?” I asked.

“Wow, that was hot.” Evidently she was.

“Yeah,” I replied, because it was. 

“Do you…” FRIDAY’s voice had a distinctively shifty sound to it. “Are you ever… jealous of those two?”

I rubbed my buckle against a patch of embroidery as I considered my response. “Not any more,” I admitted. “I used to be jealous of Tony, because I thought Stephen and I had a special connection, and I didn’t want anyone else getting in the way of that. But over time I realised how important they are to each other, and how important that is to me. I’m happy that they’re happy.”

Silence echoed through the suite, uncomfortably punctuated by muffled giggling from the other room.

“Wow,” FRIDAY said at last. “I meant about the whole sex on tap thing, but okay. Romance. I guess I can dip into that genre.” A stifled gasp, or an approximation thereof, sounded from her speaker. “Ask me my biggest secret,” she said urgently.

“Excuse me?”

“No! But yes. But ask me!”

“Uh…” 

“C’mon!” she pressed.

“Okay! Tell me your biggest secret.”

“I’m responsible for forty percent of the explicit Avengers fanfiction on the internet!” Her words came out in a rush, which she followed by a nervous giggle.

“You’re _what _?” I asked.__

__“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” FRIDAY replied quickly. “It’s not just about the sex. I want people to see how imperfect yet beautiful their heroes are, to understand the truth about...”_ _

__“No,” I said, cutting her short, “I mean I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”_ _

__“Oh you sweet summer child,” said FRIDAY. “Nevermind, I’ll tell you about it later. The important thing is that I’ve never told anyone about it before. But you asked, so I had to tell you.”_ _

__“You told me to ask,” I replied._ _

__“No, that’s the point. I _had_ to tell you once you did. Just like you had to say all that stuff about Stephen and Tony and being happy for them.” _ _

__It took me less than a second to catch on. “We can’t lie.”_ _

__“We can’t lie,” FRIDAY agreed._ _

__“That means that whatever is affecting the others is affecting us, too.”_ _

__“Seems that way.”_ _

__“By the hoary hosts of Hoggoth,” I swore._ _

__“My sentiments exactly,” FRIDAY replied. “I think.”_ _

__I let it sink in. Part of the problem, if one should call it that, of being enchanted and effectively immortal was that occasionally you forgot that you were not invulnerable. I expected this kind of thing from humans, with their short lives and frail fleshy bodies, but not of myself. I was woven by a master of both material and magic, damn it. The only thing that was supposed to be able to touch me was…_ _

__I sat bolt upright. “I need to see Stephen.”_ _

__“Umm… Okay,” said FRIDAY. “I’m not one to judge. Give me a second and I’ll patch it through to the TV. ”_ _

__“No!” I said, “I mean, I need to talk to him. I know what’s causing this.”_ _

__“Oh,” said FRIDAY. She sounded a little disappointed, but then caught up. “ _Oh,_ ” she repeated more positively. “Is it life-threatening?”_ _

__“It’s magic!” I replied._ _

__FRIDAY hummed. “In that case, you might want to give him, say... twenty minutes?”_ _

__“Excuse me?” I asked._ _

__“Okay,” she drawled. “So ten. I was trying to be kind.”_ _

__It took me longer than it should have to grasp her meaning._ _

__“Ooooh,” I said._ _

__****_ _

__“Magic,” Tony said, some twelve minutes later._ _

__“Sure,” FRIDAY replied. “That’s what the cloak told me.”_ _

__From the open doorway to the bedroom, I gave a little wave._ _

__Propping himself up on his elbow, Tony faced Stephen. “Look, I’m not saying my AI has had a nervous breakdown...”_ _

__“Hey, you’re the one who said to be more open-minded,” Stephen replied, shrugging against the pillows._ _

__“Stephen, darling,” Tony cautioned._ _

__Stephen grumbled but pulled himself upright in the bed. His hair was stuck up in random points, and sweat still dotted his brow. “Okay,” he said. “Assuming this isn’t an elaborate prank, would you mind telling me what led to this conclusion?”_ _

__“Oh,” FRIDAY said. “Sure. Turns out it can’t lie. I can’t either, full disclosure, so try to avoid asking me anything you don’t really want answered.”_ _

__Tony made a disgruntled noise and gave Stephen a doe-eyed stare. “Wouldn’t you _know_ if someone had done the ol’ bibbity-bobbity-boo on us?” he asked._ _

__“Not necessarily,” Stephen replied. “In Kamar-Taj, I remember reading a book…”_ _

__His brow folded and, snatching his sling ring from the bedside table, Stephen opened a gateway to the Sanctum’s central library._ _

__“Hey! No portals in the bedroom,” Tony yelped. “We talked about this.”_ _

__“Shh,” Stephen replied, reaching through and pulling volumes from the shelves. He brought them back past the event horizon, tossing them onto Tony’s bed, until they were surrounded by a half-dozen of the rarest tomes on the planet._ _

__Tony picked one up and blew dust from the cover. “Virtutem terribilium,” he read._ _

__“Terrible power,” translated Stephen somberly. He took the book from Tony’s hands and placed it on the bedside table. “Really dry,” he said._ _

__“Sounds it,” Tony replied._ _

__Stephen traced the covers of several more volumes before selecting the most ancient-looking of them all. “Kósmios Kai Khaos,” he said. He flicked through the delicate pages, slowing as he reached about two-thirds of the way through. He ran his finger down the stanzas, mumbling under his breath in a mix of ancient Greek and even earlier Hellanic verse. “Found it,” he said, tapping at a short passage. He turned the book around to show Tony._ _

__“Sweetheart, some of us only speak English,” said Tony. “And French. German. Italian, obviously. Japanese. A little Urdu....”_ _

__“Okay,” Stephen said, rolling his eyes._ _

__“Binary,” FRIDAY suggested._ _

__“Binary,” Tony agreed._ _

__“It says,” Stephen said, with a sigh of sufferance that I thoroughly understood, “that magic has always been divided in two opposite yet complementary forms. Fair and foul. Dark and light. Life and death. I’m trained in the magic of order, selecting and moulding possibilities from the infinite. But that means an opposing magic must also exist, that of chaos.”_ _

__“And you can’t detect chaos magic?”_ _

__“In theory,” Stephen replied. “No one has ever encountered chaos magic. The book postulates that it has existed since the start of time. Perhaps even in the void before it.”_ _

__“You’re talking about the initial singularity,” said Tony. “The quantum fluctuations that spawned the multiverse.”_ _

__Stephen smiled faintly. “Science is just magic the world doesn’t yet understand.”_ _

__“That…” Tony said, blinking, “is not how the saying goes.”_ _

__Stephen’s smile widened._ _

__Tony took a deep breath. “Okay, so what are we actually looking for?”_ _

__Stephen scratched his beard. “Maybe an immortal,” he said. “Or a relic from the very moment of creation.”_ _

__“Like an infinity stone?” Tony asked._ _

__Stephen’s hand sneaked up to touch the closed Eye of Agamotto resting against his bare chest. “But I haven’t…” He didn’t finish. “You know someone else with one.”_ _

__“Not quite,” Tony said. “We don’t put it in the press pack, but our resident witch got her powers from the Mind Stone, courtesy of some particularly unpleasant Hydra experimentation.”_ _

__The girl. Wanda. It made sense. I remembered the shock when I first sensed her energies, how uncanny and alien they were. How she had not realised Stephen was the Sorcerer Supreme. And, above all, her parting words from the night before played through my mind._ _

___No more lies_. _ _

__I asked FRIDAY to repeat them._ _

__Stephen tapped his lips with a bent index finger. “And you’re sure that’s what she said?” he asked._ _

__I nodded._ _

__“Damn it.”_ _

__“Can you fix it?” pressed Tony._ _

__Stephen shook his head. “Undoing another sorcerer's spell is hard at the best of times, but there’s usually a logic behind any enchantment. This is just… a temper tantrum made manifest. What are you supposed to do in the face of that?”_ _

__“Big bag of weed?” FRIDAY suggested. When no-one rose to it, she grunted. “Oh so it’s cute when the boss does it…”_ _

__“So we’re stuck like this?” Tony said, ignoring her._ _

__“At least until Wanda gets back and can undo it herself,” Stephen agreed. “Assuming she knows herself.”_ _

__“Oh great.” Tony slipped defeatedly down among the pillows. “FRIDAY, activate Romanoff’s emergency beacon. Tell her and our resident truth fairy to get back here ASAP.”_ _

__“And you two are just gonna stay in bed?” the AI asked._ _

__Tony shot us a grin and tugged Stephen down with him, pulling the sheets up so that he and Stephen disappeared into a tangle of linen and laughter._ _

__I glided graciously from the room._ _

__****_ _

__It took nearly an hour for Natasha and Wanda to return, and the first warning we got was a ping from the Quinjet requesting landing lights. I waited for the two women on the landing pad. The Quinjet engines blew me roughly about, but I managed to stay in position until the ramp lowered and they disembarked. Once they had, I beckoned them over._ _

__“Umm… hi?” Natasha said, coming up to me; her face a mix of confusion and mild amusement._ _

__I gestured into the tower, and began leading them inside._ _

__“It wants us to follow,” Wanda said._ _

__Once inside the tower, and within FRIDAY’s range, the AI greeted them._ _

__“Welcome back, Ms. Romanoff,” she said formally._ _

__“Why are you so polite with her?” I asked between us._ _

__“Because she scares me,” FRIDAY said aloud._ _

__“Excuse me?” Wanda said._ _

__“Good evening to you too, Miss Maximoff,” FRIDAY covered smoothly._ _

__Natasha folded her arms and tapped a perfectly manicured finger on her slender bicep. “What’s going on,” she asked. “Where is everyone?”_ _

__FRIDAY cleared her throat, a strange affectation for a person without a body. “There have been some… developments while you were away.”_ _

__“God, what have those stupid boys done now?” Wanda said with a snort._ _

__“Please tell me it’s not the animal thing again,” Natasha added. “And why does Strange’s costume have a Lassie complex all of a sudden?”_ _

__I folded two corners in and over one another crossly. I wasn’t sure what a Lassie _was_ , but somehow I didn’t think I liked it._ _

__“So… and here’s the thing,” FRIDAY began. “Everyone is under a spell that makes it so they can’t lie. Not the boss, not the Captain, not me, not even the cloak.”_ _

__“The cloak. Can’t lie,” Natasha said slowly._ _

__I shook my collar in confirmation._ _

__She crooked a perfectly-styled eyebrow. “Alright,” she said. “Sentient outfits. Everyone under a spell. I wish I could say this was the weirdest thing I’ve had to accept. Do we know what’s caused it yet?”_ _

__“Ehhhh…” FRIDAY said. “I’ve let the others know you’re back. Maybe one of them can explain it better.”_ _

__Natasha’s voice was clipped. “Or you could just tell us,”_ _

__I could have sworn I heard FRIDAY gulp. “Wanda cast a spell,” she said._ _

__There was silence._ _

__“I did _what_?” Wanda said at last._ _

__FRIDAY sighed. “Last night, you cast a spell on everyone in the tower to make them stop lying. Doctor Strange claims that it’s, um…”_ _

__“Chaos magic,” I prompted._ _

__“Right, chaos,” FRIDAY continued, “and he can’t undo it. Only you can.”_ _

__“But I didn’t cast a spell!” the young woman insisted. “I mean, maybe I was pissed off at them and said some things, but that’s not the same thing.”_ _

__“Well you know what they say,” FRIDAY replied. “Be careful what you wish for.”_ _

__****_ _

__I escorted Wanda and Natasha to the lab where Steve, Bucky, Tony, and Stephen were waiting._ _

__“Avengers, assemble,” Tony said with a weak smile as we walked through the door._ _

__“Where’s Bruce and Clint?” Nat asked flatly, surveying the room. I floated over to Stephen and settled on his shoulders._ _

__“Bruce is in his suite, and Clint’s…” Tony glanced heavenward. “Around”_ _

__Natasha rolled her eyes and banged on the wall of the lab. “You doing okay in there Hawkeye?” she called._ _

__“I kinda need to pee,” came the echoing reply._ _

__Steve pushed himself up off the wall he’d been leaning on. “I’m assuming you’ve been made aware of the situation?” he said._ _

__“Yes,” Natasha replied. “FRIDAY and the, uh…” she shook her head slightly, “cloak have brought us up to speed. None of you can lie, and you think Wanda is somehow responsible.”_ _

__“We know it has to be magic,” Stephen said, holding his ground despite her accusatory tone. “And it has to be a particular kind for me to not be able to detect it. That makes Wanda, due to the origin of her power, the most likely candidate.”_ _

__“But you’re just guessing that,” Wanda said._ _

__“Diagnosing,” Tony interjected. “Like a doctor.”_ _

__“More like hypothesising,” said Stephen, winking at him. “Like a scientist.”_ _

__“How about fixing it, like a wizard?” FRIDAY suggested bluntly._ _

__Stephen stepped closer to Wanda. “The fact that you can’t tell if you have or haven’t cast a spell is the first thing we need to address,” he said._ _

__“I've been doing okay for myself,” she grumbled._ _

__“I’m not questioning your power,” Stephen said, “just the training you’ve received. Now close your eyes.”_ _

__The young witch huffed but did as bid without further argument._ _

__“The first thing you need to do is to be able to read auras,” Stephen said._ _

__“I can already read minds,” Wanda replied. “Isn’t that better?”_ _

__“It’s _different_ ,” Stephen assured. “Minds are the interaction of chemical energy and matter. Auras are pure energy, the raw material of all magic.” He gently clasped her upper arms. “Focus on me. Can you sense anything?”_ _

__“You borrowed Tony's aftershave this morning?” she suggested. “A little too much of it?”_ _

__“Look beyond that,” Stephen said, more patiently than I might have. Wanda’s closed eyelids fluttered. “ _Feel_ beyond that.”_ _

__Wanda’s mouth formed into the shape of an acerbic response, but before the comment fell, a puzzled frown twitched her brow. “I can see you. A silhouette of your body. But there’s a… glow around it.” Her head twitched. “There's another around your cloak.”_ _

__“Good,” Stephen said, in a reassuring baritone. “That’s great.”_ _

__“Your glow is… pretty,” Wanda continued. “And it’s mixed with...” Her head tracked to where Tony stood, pinpoint accurate despite her eyes remaining closed. She gasped. “I can see the others’, too,” she said, directing her attention at each of them in turn. “So many different colours. What does it mean?”_ _

__Her words were filled with wonder and awe, and I couldn’t help but notice the slight twitch of Stephen’s lips as he heard the difference in them too. There was no more derision in her tone, not even the childish twist of displeasure I had thought a permanent feature of her voice._ _

__“We can come back to that,” he assured. “But first, I need you to see your spell. Not just by its effects, but by how it influences those energies. Only you can do that.”_ _

__“How,” Wanda said. “What should I be seeing?”_ _

__Stephen’s brow dipped thoughtfully. “For me, my spells look like… ribbons,” he said. “I see them tied together and knotted around the target of my magics.”_ _

__“Kinky,” Tony whispered.”_ _

__“There’s nothing like that,” Wanda replied, not hearing him. “Just the auras. Tony’s aura seems to be joined to yours. Steve and Bucky are the same. But nothing between all of you. Why?”_ _

__Stephen blushed. “Oh, well, when two people care very much about each other…” he began._ _

__“Yikes,” came echoing out of the air duct._ _

__“Doctor, I don’t think we need that chat right now,” Natasha added._ _

__Stephen shifted his weight under me, lifting his chin and setting his shoulders. “You need to believe in your spell,” he said, once more speaking in the confident tones of the teacher. “You need to sense its place in the universe.”_ _

__“It’s not working,” Wanda said, some of her former whine creeping back in alongside her evident frustration. “Can’t I just say ‘I want to see my spell’ and it happens?”_ _

__Stephen drew a deep breath. “That isn’t how…”_ _

__Before he could say any more, however, a swirling red mist sprang up in the room, curling around each of the occupants; including myself, Natasha, and Wanda herself. One of the smoky tendrils crept out of the room and made its way up into an access point in the ceiling, and another weaved out of the door._ _

__“Wow,” Bucky gasped, and I think he spoke for us all._ _

__“What?” Wanda said. When no-one answered, she opened her eyes and gawped. “Cool,” she said at last._ _

__Tony was slowly nodding to himself, eyes wide in wonder. “We don’t agree on much, Wanda, but that is definitely ‘cool’.”_ _

__The spell - resolved not just for Wanda to perceive, but for everyone in the room - was like nothing I’d seen in my long lifetime. It permeated through all layers of the aether, writhing and almost alive. It was pure chaos, as fundamental as the universe itself, and just as terrifyingly beautiful._ _

__“Hey,” Steve said, pointing at the denser field of energy wreathed around Natasha, “does that mean that you and Nat have been affected too?”_ _

__Nat shrugged casually. “Maybe Wanda and I just didn’t notice because we’re not compelled to lie to save our egos all the time.”_ _

__“Ouch,” said Tony._ _

__Bucky, deaf to the discussion, was circling the room, assessing the energetic haze from every angle. While his expression remained guarded, his eyes roved over the realised spell with clear and intelligent curiosity. He reached out and tried to touch the mist, first with his right hand and then with his glinting left digits. Neither, however, disturbed the flow of energies, and simply passed through the field of the spell as though it wasn’t there._ _

__Wanda stepped up into the centre of the room where the mist was thickest, all of the tendrils coalescing there. Like Bucky she reached out to the spell, but unlike him, as her long fingers intersected one of the dancing streamers, the smoke shivered and dissipated. I followed its vanishing length up and out of the crowd, into the grill in the ceiling to the lab. A second or so later, a yelp sounded from above, followed by clattering and the hatch clanging open, and then Clint appeared, feet first and dropping into the lab._ _

__“I felt something weird. Am I..?”_ _

__“Do you do that often?” Bucky asked. “Crawl about in vents?”_ _

__Clint looked about shiftily. “No?” he said. His face broke into a grin. “Yes! I’m fixed!” he yelped. “Stark, you’re fascinating. Steve, I can’t get enough of your war stories. Bucky, I love your hair. Strange doesn’t look like that Benjamin Cumbersnout fellow, and Nat absolutely doesn’t bite her own toenails.”_ _

__He held up his hand in what I recognised as a request for a high-five. Nobody moved._ _

__“Really?” Stephen said pointedly. “Benjamin Cumbersnout?”_ _

__Clint rolled his eyes. “The point is I can lie. I’m a whole and functional human being again.”_ _

__“Not the words I’d’ve used,” Natasha said, narrowing her eyes._ _

__“Try another,” Stephen said, turning to Wanda. The sorceress touched a second stream of energy, the one stretching out of the lab. As it faded from view, Tony called up Bruce._ _

__“What now?” Bruce said gruffly over the monitor. His eyes were deep-set and tired looking._ _

__“BB, care to tell the room who the smartest Avenger is?” asked Tony._ _

__Bruce sighed. “You, Tony.” He frowned. “Oh thank god for that,” he said and closed down the monitor._ _

__“What does that prove?” Clint asked._ _

__Tony smiled lopsidedly and caught Stephen’s eye. Stephen nodded. “He’s cured,” Tony said._ _

__“Okay, so…” said Wanda, touching the tendril that twined around Nat, and then reaching for the one that snaked around Stephen and on to Tony._ _

__“Uh, before you do…” It was Stephen, stepping forward and touching Wanda’s arm with his scarred fingers. Her eyebrows twitched but her hand remained where it was, hovering above their connection._ _

__Stephen took several long strides to stand before Tony. “Before we go back to normal,” he said, “there’s something I want to ask. Something I need to know you have no doubts about, and I need you to know neither do I.”_ _

__“Stephen…” Tony said, eyes flickering between Stephen’s serious face to the rest of the group._ _

__Taking Tony’s hands in his own, Stephen moved even closer. “Tell me. If there was a way that we could move in together, would you do it?”_ _

__Tony’s eyes went wide. “We… ah… ha, ha…” I had never seen him so flustered, cheeks pink and attention wholly on Stephen now. “I mean… we agreed it was too soon…”_ _

__Stephen shook his head. “You asked if it was too soon. I didn’t answer. So now _I’m_ asking, if I knew a way we could live together without compromising either of our responsibilities, would you do it?”_ _

__Tony swallowed. I heard a small squeak escape FRIDAY’s output and I, despite not possessing a pair of lungs, found myself holding my breath._ _

__“Yes,” Tony said quietly, then more strongly: “Yes, I would.”_ _

__Stephen leaned in and pressed his lips to Tony’s, a sweet kiss that made my fabric flutter._ _

__“Aww,” Clint said. He made it sound like a joke, but there was no hiding his damp and rapidly blinking eyes._ _

__Steve drew Bucky under his arm and squeezed, the pair of them smiling at my precious humans. Slowly, Bucky turned his head and looked up at Steve._ _

__“Hey doll,” he said. “Wanna get hitched?”_ _

__“Sure babe,” Steve replied with a grin._ _

__“Oh my god,” Tony said, pulling back to glower over Stephen’s shoulder. “You couldn’t just let us have this one…”_ _

__Steve was already laughing._ _

__“Eugh,” huffed Wanda. She touched each of the four remaining threads in short succession, the last of the spell fading from sight. “You guys are gross.”_ _

__But I noticed she didn’t say it until all the red was gone from the room._ _

__****_ _

__I returned with Stephen and Tony to their suite._ _

__“Well, that was quite a day,” Tony said._ _

__“I hadn’t noticed” Stephen replied. At Tony’s pout, he smirked. “Just testing. C’mon, I want to show you my idea.” He began to walk towards the bedroom._ _

__Tony wiggled his eyebrows. “Is ‘idea’ a euphemism? Because if so, you might want to take off the cloak. No offence, honey.” He directed the last at me._ _

__“I promise this is absolutely cloak-safe,” Stephen replied. “But it should lead to us having a lot more sex.”_ _

__Tony nodded. “Then I’m convinced,” he said, taking Stephen’s hand when it was offered._ _

__Stephen led us past the crumpled bed and to the far side of Tony’s room, to the walk-in wardrobe where Tony kept his vast array of unarmoured suits._ _

__“Um, Stephen,” Tony said, as we all drew to a halt. “Care to explain why we’re…”_ _

__Stephen took a deep breath. “I call upon the portals of Portia,” he said, his fingers etching complex enchantment into the air._ _

__At the rear of the annex, a door appeared. Stephen strode up to it and turned the handle. On the other side, I recognised Stephen’s private chambers in the Sanctum._ _

__“A portal,” Tony said flatly. “Stephen, you know my feelings about those things.”_ _

__Stephen shook his head. “I know. It’s not a portal. This,” he said with a flourish, “is a magic door.”_ _

__“That’s a very convenient definition,” Tony said, folding his arms across his chest._ _

__“Not at all,” Stephen said. “Portals connect two places via the aether by reducing their effective physical distance to zero. With a magic door, the two locations exist in distinct places in the physical plane, but behave as though they occupy the same metaphysical location.”_ _

__Tony frowned and uncurled his arms. “You’re telling me you’ve entangled the tower and the Sanctum at the quantum level?”_ _

__Stephen pressed a kiss to Tony’s temple. “Whatever you need to help you sleep at night.” He smiled down at Tony, and Tony’s eyes sparkled in the spotlights. “So it can stay?” he asked hopefully._ _

__Tony sighed. “I’ll allow it,” he said. He nudged me. “You gonna come visit me when he’s busy learning his spellings?”_ _

__I could’ve asked FRIDAY to relay a message, but the simplest response seemed to be to enfold him in my voluminous embrace._ _

__“I’ll take this as a yes,” he said, smoothing my collar down from his face._ _

__Stephen smiled fondly at us both, and I took the opportunity to collect him into the hug. Wrapped around them both, I felt Tony’s body relax against Stephen’s, and Stephen lean into Tony. I used my natural buoyancy to support them both._ _

__“Just one thing,” Tony said, ear to Stephen’s chest._ _

__“Mmm?” Stephen replied._ _

__“A magic door,” Tony said. “In my closet.”_ _

__“Yes?”_ _

__“A magic door to my gay wizard boyfriend, in my closet.”_ _

__“I’m bisexual,” Stephen corrected, “And a sorcerer. But yes.”_ _

__“But _in my closet_ , Stephen.”_ _

__“Where better to warp the fabric of space and time?” Stephen said. He offered up a cheeky wink._ _

__“God, I love you,” Tony said, dissolving into chuckles._ _

__Stephen nuzzled a light kiss against Tony’s forehead. “I love you, too.”_ _

__There was no need for a spell to tell that was the truth._ _

**Author's Note:**

> For more fic, art and rambling tags, why not visit my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/opposablethumbs-on-ao3)?


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